Red Dust of Mars

by Christopher Wills

“Not much, he’s a politician.”

  “He’s an Assistant Secretary for Defence in the Earth Government,” said Brad.

  Bloody hell.

  A young female Space Fleet officer entered the room to brief them on the program for the next couple of days.

  “Welcome to Space Fleet and Space Marines officer selection. My job is to help you be at the right place on time in the right rig. If you can all make sure your communicator blue is on.” She waited until everyone indicated they were ready.

  “I am sending you the program and rules for selection.” She pressed something on her communicator.

  “In a minute I will show you to your accommodation. My name is ma’am. OK?”

  Jethro, Conrad and Bronte said, “Yes ma’am,” but none of the others did.

  “I said,” a little slower and a little louder. "My name is ma’am. OK?”

  This time everyone in the room replied, “Yes ma’am.” After which ma’am smiled a thin lipped smile.

  The accommodation was sparse but OK. First stop was the medical centre for weight, height, DNA ID and blood tests. Then the testing centre for the terminal tests. The first set of tests was knowledge tests. Jethro was not looking forward to them. He knew he was bright but he left school as soon as he was allowed, and hadn’t studied since, other than fixing hoverbike engines, farm machinery and power generators all learned from Mesh posts.

  The first test was General Knowledge. Jethro knew he bombed it. He had no idea where the Mona Lisa was or who wrote Pride and Prejudice and he thought Valley Forge was the place the Army of the Dead lived in Lord of the Rings. The second test was logic which seemed pretty easy but in reality he had no idea how he did. The third was mathematics which was not his strong point, although there were some engineering questions which he had a good go at. Then lunch.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Conrad. “This afternoon there are two tests. The first is accuracy. A mixed list of stuff you must put onto the correct forms with not enough time to complete it. Better to do five completely correct entries than twelve with a mistake. OK?”

  “Kind of makes sense. What’s the second test?”

  “The essay question. The one I dread.”

  “Agreed. Any advice?”

  “Sorry Jethro,” said Conrad. “It’s an argument essay and I’m not sure what to advise.”

  “My dad always said in an argument try to see the other side. Maybe I’ll try that to write my essay.”

  “That’s a good idea Jethro,” said Bronte. “Write both sides to the argument then conclude. You’ll be fine.” She smiled her wicked smile at him.

  I’m in love.

  Lunch was in the junior rates dining hall. Jethro was conscious of being stared at by male and female, some younger than himself, some older than his dad with everything in between.

  “Don’t worry about them Jethro. They all hate officers,” said Conrad.

  “But we’re not officers.”

  “Not yet but they rarely get close to a real officer except in the Space Marines so they transfer their hate onto anything related, no matter how remote.”

  “Nice.” Jethro wondered what happens when a rookie Space Marine officer is alone with his troops.

  The essay question was ‘Pick a political or topical issue and discuss.’ Quite broad. Jethro wasn’t interested in politics so he chose the issue of First Contact. He wrote an essay based on the idea that we should be both welcoming and wary at the same time.

  End of the first day. Tomorrow the leadership tests and the interviews. Jethro was dreading the interviews.

  Jethro was in a group with Brad who still wore the scowl on his face he had acquired when Bronte told him off.

  “For the first of the gym tasks there is no leader. We want you, as a team, to get yourselves and the ball across the ravine, marked on the floor by the two chalk lines within ten minutes. Nobody must touch the ravine area. The ball must be passed across and cannot be thrown. Go.”

  Three instructors each with a clipboard were writing furiously every time one of the team either said something or moved.

  One of Jethro’s team shot their hand up.

  “No questions.”

  “But…”

  “You have all the instructions you need. You are wasting the team’s time.”

  The lad who had put his hand up was in a sulk. Jethro had a plan but he stayed silent. They were all picking up ropes and planks and measuring them. And Brad even stepped into the chalk ravine to measure the distance across it.

  Jethro tried to stop him. He put his hand out and said “Stop.”

  Brad said. “Take your filthy hand off me farm boy.” Jethro lowered his hand and as soon as Brad put his feet in the ravine one of the instructors said. “Step to one side. You’re dead.”

  Jethro had had enough. A couple of minutes had gone and nothing had happened.

  “Right anybody got a plan?”

  Immediately the remaining four started talking, trying to outshout each other to prove theirs was the best plan.

  Jethro held up both hands and they were silent. “It’s a simple task. All your plans will work. Let’s choose one and do it.”

  They saw sense and picked a plan that involved two of the team dangling from two ropes that hung over the ravine and the ball being passed across then each team member swung from one rope to the next to get across but Jethro as the last person was unable to get across in the time allotted. He was gutted. He believed he had failed.

  The leadership task was similar but across a shallow swimming pool where there were two oil barrels that could be stood on instead of ropes dangling from the ceiling. Jethro was first leader but didn’t complete it in time. He didn’t complain because he already felt he had failed so he resigned himself to doing the best he could to help the others pass, even Brad.

  Next was a table top exercise that involved a freighter spaceship being marooned on an asteroid with the team discussing the best way to rescue the men, women, and if possible, the ship and cargo. In space nearby was a Mother ship. They were given time to read the scenario, amount of fuel left, times, speeds number of crew available etc. Then they were asked to discuss it and come up with a plan.

  Just before the discussion started, they were given added complications. A meteor shower was due and the Mother ship had to leave its location in 12 hours no matter what the circumstances.

  Again they all had a brilliant plan most of which involved them showing off their calculations of fuel usage and ranges and timings that they all desperately wanted to get across to impress the panel sitting facing them with clipboards. Jethro paused and listened to the cacophony that was going on around his table.

  “Stop.” They stopped and looked at him. He had their attention.

  “Before we discuss plans let’s decide priorities. With the Mother ship needing to leave in 12 hours and the imminent meteor shower can I suggest the first and main priority must be the preservation of the lives of those marooned?”

  Everyone instantly agreed and they slowly began to understand the game and the table eased down to a more sensible discussion. Jethro found that due to his intervention he had become the de facto leader of the group. Even scowling Brad seemed to agree so Jethro took a back seat in the discussion only occasionally offering his opinion.

  Next the interview Jethro dreaded most; the personnel interview. This was where he would be asked to discuss his deepest darkest secrets. Conrad told him not to lie because the chances are, they would know about them anyway.

  “Come in Jethro and sit here,” Thin Lips.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Jethro sat.

  “Relax. I’m not going to bite your head off. Tell me about yourself. Who is the real Jethro Tull?”

  Jethro felt like he was on a date. Uncomfortable, embarrassed and no idea what to say.

  “Um.”

  Stop it Jethro. Pause. Think. Say something.

  “I’m a Soy Bean farmer and I’ve always wanted to join
the military.”

  “About that. Your online presence suggests that when you were younger you wanted to be a Space pilot, and yet you’ve applied to be a Space Marine. Why is that?”

  Jethro was prepared for this question but it didn’t make it any easier to answer.

  “I always thought I wanted to be a Space pilot but I lead an outdoor life looking after sheep on Dartmoor. My online presence evolved into tinkering about with engines, trying to make them go faster and sound better. That’s the bit I love. I have the fastest hoverbike in the county and I do all the farm machinery maintenance. But farming is tough, especially when your engine conks out in winter in the middle of Dartmoor and you have to trek home 20 miles in the snow in the dark. So I am really fit and I love being fit.” Good answer Jethro. I think.

  “Thank you. Do you have a girl friend?”

  “No.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I don’t know many girls. My job as a farmer is lonely and we don’t live near any big cities so I don’t get much chance to meet them.”

  Difficult question. What is she looking for?

  “Your father. What are your feelings about him?”

  Jethro had thought long and hard about how to answer questions about Dad.

  As Conrad said, no point in lying. She is probably reading the Courts Martial trial notes in that folder of hers now.

  “He’s my Dad I love him.”

  “Do you know much about his past?”

  “I suspect you’re referring to his military service and the Courts Martial.”

  “Go on.”

  “He’s told me about it. But he accepts his part in the incident and is getting on with his life as a farmer. He has worked very hard and is doing well. He could do with newer prosthetic limbs if you could note that down. He always says, one can’t change the past, but one can change the future.”

  “So you’re not bitter about it?”

  “No.”

  Be careful what you say.

  “He feels an injustice was done to him about the help he received when he left the military but my Mum and Dad are very happy. They have a lot to be thankful for. He is doing good helping others now and I’m very proud of him.”

  “Yes I can see that.”

  “Final question. What do you hope to achieve in the Space Marines?”

  “I want to serve the Earth, become a good leader and have a good career.”

  Weak but uncontroversial.

  “Thank you Jethro. Tomorrow you will get the final interview and be told whether you have passed or not.”

  No point in pretending I have a chance. I know I’ve failed so no point in worrying about it.

  chapter 8

  Jethro adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time. Although he knew he had failed selection it didn’t make waiting for the final interview any easier. He never noticed suits before, but stuck in the waiting room, he saw that every other candidate, including Conrad and Brad, appeared to have an expensive suit for the interview compared to his Dad’s demob suit with adjustments. And of course, Bronte looked divine in her designer suit.

  The other thing he noticed, or heard, or didn’t hear, was that the excited chatter of the latest weapons and gadgets of yesterday had fizzled to silence.

  Brad was first in to be interviewed. He wasn’t in there long and came out to sit and wait for the verdict.

  “How did you get on?” Bronte asked.

  “OK. I think.”

  Brad sounded confident on the surface but Jethro thought he could detect some nervousness. It wasn’t the face but the body language. Jethro knew nothing about body language but Brad was wringing his hands together and that couldn’t be good. He was called back in after only a few minutes.

  It was only a few minutes before Brad came back out of the interview room, his stare locked onto the floor.

  “How did you get on?” Bronte asked. But Brad didn’t say anything, he kept looking at the floor and shook his head. Jethro thought he could see tears and Brad left without a word. If he found it tough what chance did Jethro have?

  “Mister Tull.”

  Jethro jumped at the call and entered the interview room and sat where he was directed, in front of a large table where three people sat facing him; a male and a female senior officer and a gorilla wearing a suit.

  The female officer introduced the interview panel. “I am Admiral Jane Marple, chair of the panel, to my right is Vice Admiral John Watson and to my left is Mister Black. All three of us will be asking you questions then we will ask you to wait in the waiting area and after discussions we will call you back in here to tell you whether you have passed or failed. OK?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Good. So why do you want to join the Space Marines?”

  “I live an outdoor life and I want a career in the military with the same outlook. I once thought I wanted to be a Space Pilot. It sounded glamorous and exciting to me but when I looked at all the things I love, I realised I love being active and physical. I don’t want a desk role, at least not at the start of my career.”

  At this he could see the gorilla squirming in his chair. Jethro guessed he shared a similar sentiment.

  “Your dad wasn’t an officer so what makes you think you have the right stuff?” This from the Vice Admiral.

  “He was from a different era. Today I think he would make a good officer.”

  At this the Admiral picked up her tablet and leaned over to the Vice Admiral pointing something out to him.

  “Why do you say that?” asked the Vice Admiral prompted by the Admiral’s intervention.

  “He runs a farm which means he has to be very good at planning both long term and short term and for every eventuality. He must be able to react to unforeseen events like something eating the crops or disease or the weather. He is quick to help the rest of the farming community and in collaborative projects he often takes the lead because of his wisdom. And he is very kind too. He helps former Space Marines to get back on their feet. I can’t speak highly enough of him.”

  “Thank you. Mister Black, you have some questions.”

  The gorilla sat up in his seat.

  “Could you kill a woman?”

  Difficult question or what?

  “I take responsibility for our sheep, which graze on Dartmoor. I assume you’ve been there.”

  The gorilla smiled but immediately wiped it from his face as if he realised he wasn’t supposed to smile. “Go on.”

  “Every year I kill three sheep for us to eat. Sometimes I have to kill a sheep that has become badly injured. That’s not easy because you become attached to them, but if it’s necessary it’s necessary. A Space Marine’s job is to protect the Earth, Mars and the Asteroid Mines. I think I could kill a woman if I had to. I might not feel great about it but I assume counselling and stuff would be available.”

  The answer seemed acceptable although the gorilla didn’t display any emotion.

  The interviewed continued and ended with admin questions about when he was available to join if selected and what the process for reapplication was if not selected and then it was over and Jethro was shown out of the room.

  “Phew that was tough,” he said to Conrad who brought him a fruit juice.

  “You’ll be alright Jethro,” said Bronte.

  I hope so. I don’t want to go through that again.

  “Mister Tull?”

  Jethro felt like he was going to his own funeral and when he walked into the room, he didn’t feel any better because none of the panel were smiling. He sat.

  The Admiral cracked a smile. “Congratulations mister Tull. We would like to offer you a place as a trainee Space Marine officer in the September 10th intake.”

  Unbelievable.

  Jethro had high hopes before he arrived but the more he had been tested the worse he thought he had done.

  “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

  “We’ll go through your tests now and explain your results,” sa
id the Vice Admiral.

  “Written tests you did well in some and not so well in others but we feel general knowledge could be taught to you and clearly your maths skills and the copy and list skills were excellent. It is rare for a Space Marine officer to be that good at maths. Your essay was interesting and whilst we didn’t agree necessarily with everything you wrote we liked your clear and logical arguments, and the way you presented them. These skills will help you a great deal in training.”

  The gorilla was next.

  “You did well at the gym tests. During the first one without a leader it was great to see that you recognised it was an easy task and that almost everyone’s plan would succeed and in the end, you nearly succeeded as a team, something that has never happened. So well done.

  “Your leadership test was excellent. You asked for opinions but remained in charge, you helped your team members and encouraged them when they were struggling and I particularly liked the way you kept standing back to get an overall view. Sometimes leaders think they can do everything better than their team and get too involved when they should be concentrating on the task. Again, completion is irrelevant. It was the manner in which you led the team, oh and you were the only one who gave their team a full and correct brief at the start. If you died the team could still complete the task.

  “Finally I thought you were excellent as a team member accepting the authority of the leader and encouraging him even when he was struggling. Sometimes it is important to accept authority, although not always.” He glanced at the Admiral at this point and she smiled back at him.

  “Your interviews were good and we felt you think well on your feet when asked difficult questions,” said the Admiral. “So do you have any questions for us?”

  Jethro hadn’t thought that far but he managed one.

  “What happens next ma’am?”

  “You will receive digital acceptance with joining instructions for Dartmouth within the next 24 hours. September entry is OK for you?”

  “Yes ma’am.” Jethro hadn’t thought about what Mum and Dad might say even though they supported him all the way.

  “On arrival at Britannia Bootcamp, Dartmouth, you will start with a rigorous physical test to ensure you are up to the demands of training. If you are unsuccessful you will spend a term building up your physical attributes. It’s no shame because about fifty percent of candidates today need that kind of help. Although I’m sure you will be OK. Any more questions?”